TH3 PR1C3 OF JUST1C3
by ephemeralCartomancer
Summary: In which a variety of circumstances force a group of 12 alternian teenagers to attend a human high school, where bonds will be made with four human children of varying popularities, containing many tragedies, humorous incidents, and four relations.
1. Prologue

**Alternian Separation Act**

_No State may deny, modify, or substitute any of these codes at any time._

1. No being of Alternian descent over the age of eighteen (18) Earth years at such time this bill is passed will be permitted to remain on Earth.

2. Any being of Alternian descent below the age of eighteen (18) Earth years at the passing of this bill will be considered under the Protection of the United States, and will be permitted to remain for the duration of their lives, barring further legislation.

3. No Alternian "Lusi" will be permitted to remain on Earth. Instead, Alternian children too young (under 13 Earth years of age) to care for themselves will be assigned a Government employed caretaker until they reach a suitable age to care for themselves.

4. No Alternian will be permitted to live in any public complex or suburban neighborhood. Sufficient Government housing will be provided to house all beings of Alternian descent within any city limits.

5. Beings of Alternian descent are under the duress of all United States laws and regulations.

6. No Alternian will be permitted to walk the streets of any city from 6p.m. to 6a.m.

7. No Alternian may use any form of public transport. Each State will provide an alternative method of transport of Alternian citizens.

8. Private businesses may reserve the right to make their own policies regarding the employment, service, or housing of Alternian citizens. No Alternian may be employed in any government-funded occupation.

9. No being of Alternian descent may campaign for or hold any public office.

10. No Human-Alternian intermarriage/cohabitation will be tolerated, and may be punished by up to 3 years in (federal) prison and a fine not to exceed $10,000.

11. No Alternian will be permitted entrance to any Human theatre, hospital, park, or other civic feature.

12. All States may reserve the right to pass any additional legislation necessary to the protection of citizens and capitol.


	2. Chapter 1

Ch. 1 (John)

At the behest of a shrieking alarm clock, John Egbert opened his eyes and stared at the blank white ceiling of his small room. Slowly, his vision began to adjust to the pale rays of light sifting through his window, and he rose, eyes drifting over his many treasures. Posters of movies only he seemed to enjoy, his stuffed rabbit, Liv Tyler… and, of course, his pet salamander, Casey. 17 years of memories lined the walls, but never before had he felt so out of place.

Today would be a novel experience in more than one way. He had been looking forward to his Senior year since he started middle school, but the events that had taken place over the last few months had turned his excitement into nervous anticipation. He could not pretend to understand the months of legal battles that had set the Supreme Court aflame, nor was he aware of the intense debates taking place on the Senate floor even now. All he knew was that life was about to change forever. Today, the Trolls would be allowed to attend public schools.

The prospect horrified his father. Each morning, they would eat breakfast together as the debates raged on the kitchen T.V. With each new right the Alternians gained, his father would shake his head silently, a picture of disapproving toleration. However, the hands that crushed the borders of his newspaper until the veins popped out did not escape his sons notice. Years of being pulled to the other side of the street when a Troll passed by, countless nights listening to his father read sensationalist stories of Alternian violence… Where he should have been giddy with excitement, now John was nauseous with fear.

With growing reluctance, John began to get ready. He had hoped that the familiarity of his trademark Green Slime tee would calm his nerves, but somehow, even it felt foreign and uncomfortable. Heaving a sigh of defeat, he slung his bookbag over his shoulder and headed downstairs. Years of sneaking midnight snacks to his room had afforded him a light step, and he managed to sneak by the kitchen, avoiding confrontation with his father… for the time being, at least. One door later, and he was outside, filling his lungs with warm summer air. His neighborhood was silent, the identical white houses extending as far as the eye could see. For that reason, the old red Cadillac parked in front of Johns driveway drew the boys attention immediately. "Took you long enough, Egbert." Called a familiar voice. Johns' eyes drifted to the trunk of the car, where a lean young man stood, sunglasses turned towards the rising sun.

With perfect nonchalance, Dave Strider dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out, running his a hand through his sandy blonde hair. "D-Dave! You're on time!" John called out, a grin of surprise spreading across his face. The older boy shrugged, but a thin smile teased his lips as well. "C'mon, Egderp. I'd never keep a lady waiting." he teased, opening the passenger door of his car with a dramatic sweep. John couldn't help but giggle as he settled into the passenger seat, feeling some of his tension melt away. Ever since he had saved him from getting his lunch money taken in fifth grade, Dave Strider had been like the older brother John never had… though he would never figure out why someone as cool as Strider would hang out with someone like him. He supposed it was one of the many secrets Dave kept hidden behind the unchanging stare of his black glasses.

Once the initial ribbing has subsided, John found himself staring out the window, watching suburbia scream past him at a speed he was certain was quite illegal. With nothing but Dave's indie music to fill the silence, he found his mind again wandering to the enigma of the coming year. What should he expect? Would he be attacked? Would it be safe to walk the halls? Would he have to talk to them? Did he want to? The questions surged through his mind, pushing up his heartbeat and forcing his breath to come in short gasps. "You okay over there, Egderp?" Dave asked, glancing over at him. He pulled another cigarette out of his jeans and offered it to his young friend, then placed it between his lips and lit it, inhaling deeply. John sighed, wishing he had half of Dave's courage, but he supposed it was just the differences between people. Besides, he had no more time to think. With growing dread, John felt the car slow, easing into its parking place. There would be no more delays… it was time to face the unknown.


	3. Chapter 2

Ch. 2 (John)

With a trembling hand, John pushed open his door and stepped out of the car, extracting his bookbag from the mire of junk in Dave's floorboard. Their school, Halley High, loomed above them like a shadow of death, promising calamity to all who would enter. Of course, John would never voice that metaphor out loud. He didn't want Dave to think he was that lame.

"So, uh… We're seniors now, Dave. That's cool, right?"

"So cool, Egderp. We're like fucking snowflakes, all chill and special up in this shit."

"Uh… yeah. Dave, are you making fun of me?"

"Mm-hmm."

John sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn't think he would ever get the hang of Dave's sense of "irony." As they approached the front of the building, the first bell rang, signaling students to enter and get to class. Predictably, Dave veered off and leaned against the rugged brick of the institution, taking a nonchalant drag of his ironic cancer stick. There were three things in this world that were absolutely certain: That the sun would rise in the east, that Conair was the best movie ever, and that Dave Strider would never be early for class.

For a moment, he contemplated staying outside, but the combination of irony and second hand smoke proved too strong a deterrent. He bid the resident coolkid goodbye, in as ironic a manner as he knew how (a fistbump. Seriously, who did those anymore?), and made his way to the heavy, industrial steel doors. "Come on… John Egbert is no coward!" he said to himself, trying to imitate the strong, manly tones of Nicholas Cage. What came out was more reminiscent of a little old lady talking to a particularly deaf feline. Whatever, it was close enough. With as much false bravado as he could summon, John Egbert opened the door. Like a boss.

The interior of Halley High looked the same as always. The same clean, industrial smell, the same gritty tile, the same dull grey bricks. Students swarmed through the narrow halls, hundreds of voices fighting for dominance, yet all of them spoke of the same topic. "The Trolls are really coming! I saw it on the news!" "I hope one of those punks looks at me wrong. I'll beat the shit out of those horned freaks." "I snuck a kitchen knife in my purse… you know, just in case." John hardly found any of the conversations uplifting. His heart was beating faster than ever. He was unprepared, and what if one should…? No, he wouldn't let himself think like that. "Just get to class, John… Just get to class…" he muttered to himself, pushing through the crowd toward the left wing of his school, where a Witch was waiting patiently for him.

With three minutes to spare, John stumbled through the open door of Ms. Schneeman's homeroom class. If there was one upside to this whole situation, it was that, for once, nobody had noticed him as he skulked through the halls. Making it to class without a single comment on his social standing was, at the very least, a small blessing, and he would take a gift where he could get it. For now, however, he felt he should focus his attention on the beautiful girl giving him a pleasant smile from the most remote corner of the room. Without any of the fear his classmates displayed, he crossed the dirty floor and sat next to Rose Lalonde, the infamous and insidious Witch of Halley High.

"Good morning, John." she said, morning sun dancing in her eyes. Rose was almost certainly the most gorgeous pariah John had ever seen. Her skin was pale, but pleasantly tinged about her cheeks with a healthy blush. She wore her trademark black lipstick, as usual, and an elegant black camisole that modestly covered her chest. Tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, she closed the massive grimoire she had been reading, and devoted her full attention to young Egbert. "Wow, Rose… you look great." he said, giggling happily. He had missed his friend dearly. "Why, thank you, John. You look quite nice as well. I see you still have no trouble associating with someone who could purportedly hex you into anemia." Her words carried a faint note of bitterness, but her smile was genuine. People could be so cruel.

Rose Lalonde had moved to the area four years ago, just as John was starting his freshman year. Her bewitching looks, coupled with her incredible wit and penchant for the arcane had immediately led to her reputation as a Witch. Within a month of her arrival, every incident, from breakups to poor grades to that time the gym caught on fire, was blamed on the mysterious and malicious Witch of Halley High. The current rumors, however, had taken a more serious tone. At the end of last year, Rose's mother was hospitalized. Nobody knew why, or what had happened. Simply that it was, without a doubt, her fault.

Although she never let it show, John knew that, deep down, it had to hurt. Badly. There would never be anything she could do to dispel the rumors. Even the noblest acts of charity, to which she was certainly given, seemed sinister. For that reason, she had taken the title of Witch and wrapped it around herself like a cloak, enjoying the wall that came with it. Only John and his small group of friends could breech her barrier and get close to her, and even then, it was only partial. Rose Lalonde kept her secrets.

"John, you have been staring at my chest for a disconcerting amount of time. Is something troubling you?" she asked pleasantly, folding her hands across the scarred leather of her book. Rose was practically a licensed therapist. John nodded, averting his eyes in embarrassment.

"It is the arrival of the Alternians, is it not?"

"…Yeah. Rose, I'm scared…"

"Oh, my. When was your traumatic experience with them?"

"I, uh… don't think I understand."

"Well, your fear must stem from something rational. Certainly the John Egbert that associates with a devilish sorceress could not be a victim of thoughtless bias."

"Rose, my Dad told me all my life that trolls were dangerous."

"My Mother told me all my life that alcohol was delicious. I didn't believe her."

John opened his mouth to respond, but the words died in his throat. As one, each head in the classroom turned towards the window, drawn by the sound of sirens. Led by two police cars, a small convoy of ugly grey busses, windows tinted black, pulled up in front of the school, brakes screeching like demons from hell. As one, the rest of the students stood up and hurried to the windows, faces pressed against the glass for a glimpse of horror. Heart pounding, John stood up and joined them, leaving Rose to return to her book, face completely disinterested. In the short time the convoy had been there, a multitude of news vans had arrived, media personnel scrambling over the scene, cameras ready.

With an ominous creak, the doors on the busses opened, and from each emerged several police officers. The press was pushed back, a path was cleared, and a signal given. The whole room watched with bated breath, absorbing the spectacle with excitement and fear as the first patch of grey skin was illuminated by the morning sun.


	4. Chapter 3

Ch. 3 (John)

The moon hung high in the sky, courting the chill autumn air, illuminating bouquets of dead leaves that danced across the quiet streets. John Egbert, five years old, was the sole witness to this magic as he made his plodding way toward the park a block from his home. The world seemed so large to him, so infinite in color and texture and variety. Keeping to the light of the streetlamps, the tiny knight quested for neither honor nor maidens. Instead, he sought comfort, a memento. His most precious possession, a blanket that still smelled faintly of perfume, left behind after his latest playtime. Time passed. He arrived. The park, removed from the familiar glow of the lamps, appeared as dark and infinite as a void, and a sudden blast of icy air cut through the boys thin pajamas, setting him to shivering.

Step by tentative step, the whimpering child crossed from light into oblivion, seeking that which was lost. In every shadow, he saw a new nightmare, a creature that hungered for the flesh of the naughty, the bedwetting, the restless. Eaten with fear, eyes as wide as the taunting moon, the boy began to sing a broken song, a verse without meter, a fragment taken from primal memory. He did not know the words, but the shattered syllables granted him solace. As the verse repeated, his courage grew, and he proceeded farther across the cold sand.

It was only when he arrived at the towering swingset that he realized he was not alone. The faint song died in his throat as he stared up at the creature from his nightmares. Slowly, it turned to face him, yellow eyes glowing in the darkness. In the strange light of the moon, the skin of the creature appeared gray, and its pupils glinted bright and black as Anthracite.

"What do you want?" it demanded, its voice faint and hoarse. Immediately, it collapsed in a fit of coughing, shivering violently. As the boy watched, it pulled something tight around itself, huddling away from the cold. "M-my blanky…" the boy whimpered, stepping forward. The creature growled defensively, stepping off the swings. It was barely taller than John, and obviously frightened. As he watched, it began shivering and coughing again, collapsing to the sand. "…What are you… looking at… you nooksucking… human…" it demanded, fists clenching tightly at its torn pants. In an instant, young John's fear had changed to curiosity, and he stepped forward, touching the creature's cold flesh, running tiny hands through its tangled hair, marveling at the chitinous horns sprouting from its head. "Don't… touch me… please…" it muttered, eyes fighting to stay open.

The boy whimpered slightly, grabbing the troll's hand. "Come." he said softly, tugging on the figure. Too weak to fight back, it complied, following shakily behind the boy. "My name… John." he mumbled, words all but inaudible. His companion merely coughed, stumbling and falling to the cement. "Up, up!" called the child, pulling the wretched creature to its feet once more, leading it back to the sanctuary of his home.

The door was opened, the lights were turned on. Water was provided, and his father was awakened. What followed was hell. "What in God's name is that thing doing in my house!" cried his father, more terrifying than any creature inhabiting the night outside. John began to cry, falling onto the cheap linoleum. In the light of the kitchen, the troll's full nature was illuminated. It was a boy, with grey skin and small, nubby horns. It coughed pathetically as John's father held it by the back of the neck, pushing it past the frightened child. For an instant, their eyes met. The child had never seen such deep sorrow before, had no words to describe it. In one quick motion, the figure tossed a small, dirty bundle at him. Hugging his blanket tightly to his chest, tears of fear and hurt streaming down his cheeks, John could only watch as his father hurled the poor creature out the door, leaving it in a shuddering heap on the lawn.

The police were called, the creature taken away. John had never been spanked before, but he was that night. "Never. Never. NEVER. Get near. One of those. THINGS. Again!" Everything he had worn that night was burned, purged from existence. He never saw the troll or his blanket again after that night, but he learned a lesson. Trolls were dangerous. They brought pain. They were to be feared. He would never disobey again.

"John. Are you alright?"

As a warm hand fell across his shoulder, John's eyes snapped open, bringing him abruptly from the grasp of his memories. For a moment, he was bewildered, then, slowly, reality returned to him, and he turned towards Rose.

"I'm okay… sorry…" he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. His classmates were staring, he could feel it, but he didn't care. With a gentle touch, Rose led him back to his seat and sat beside him, looking at him with genuine concern in his eyes. As he prepared to explain, a sharp knock reverberated throughout the room, bringing the entire class to a standstill. Mrs. Schneeman, smoothing down her modest gray pantsuit, opened the door.

The police officers were the first to enter, standing to either side of the door. To the fanfare of deathly silence, the trolls made their entrance. The first to enter was female, with an elegant, sweeping hairstyle. She wore a black shirt with a green emblem, along with a flowing red skirt and lipstick of an even deeper black than Rose's. For some reason, John found himself fixated by her horns, which possessed an almost exquisite asymmetry. The first possessed a perfect curvature, but the second had a hook at its tip. The figure nodded demurely to the class before turning to the teacher. "Good afternoon, Madam Schneeman. My name is Kanaya Maryam." she said, folding her hands in front of her. Her voice was smooth and elegant, each word chosen and enunciated with the utmost care. In spite of himself, John's gaze flew over to Rose. They seemed so… similar… and from the look in Ms. Lalonde's eyes, she could see the similarities as well.

As Kanaya moved off to the side, one of the officers signaled for the next troll to enter. This one was male, and strikingly thin. His hair lay flat and close to his head, punctuated by four horns, two on each side. The emblem on his shirt was a golden yellow, and he wore what John could only describe as 3-D glasses. This troll's fangs were readily visible, and mirrored his horns, two on each side. He entered the room and crossed his arms, expression hidden by the peculiar glasses. "Thollux Captor." he stated, lisping heavily to compensate for the prominent fangs jutting out of his mouth.

John's breath caught in his throat as the final troll made his way into the room. While the other two appeared somewhat calm and dignified, this one looked absolutely feral. Wild, untamed hair erupted from his head, all but obscuring his small, nubby horns. His face was contorted with rage and contempt, and he stomped in, arms crossed tightly across his chest, defensive. He glared at the fearful room, a snarl revealing broad teeth, rounded like tombstones. "Karkat motherfucking Vantas." he roared, and once again, the room fell silent, save for the frantic beating of John's heart.


	5. Chapter 4

_Author's Note_: Hello, everyone! First off, I would like to thank you for all the kind reviews. It means so much. Now, the reason I'm putting a note here in Chapter 4 is that I'm feeling a bit dishonest. There are actually three people working on this. Let me explain.

We have Zach, our writer.

And then we have Quill, our editor.

Lastly, we have me, Brittany, I'm the manager of sorts.

(We all have Tumblrs, if anyone is curious.)

I manage the uploading of the chapters and replying to all your wonderful and amazing reviews. 3 Let me be clear that Zach reads all your incredible messages, he is just very shy.

Thank you so much for being understanding and thank you forever for reading and reviewing! Enjoy this chapter!

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><p><span>Ch. 4 (John)<span>

For a long while, the room was silent, each student waiting with bated breath to see what the trolls would do. The one called Kanaya was the first to act, nodding politely to the teacher as she made her way to the far corner of the room, sitting on the front row, two seats in front of Rose. The yellowblood, Sollux, followed, sitting beside her. It was only at the shoving hand of one of the officers that Karkat was moved, swearing under his breath as he took the only available seat, behind Sollux, and directly in front of John.

John's hands clutched the sides of the desk until they turned white, but he didn't dare speak. His stomach twisted itself into knots as he sluggishly registered the small nubs nearly lost in a wild tangle of black hair, the way the troll's old, faded clothing hung off his skinny frame. It was all horribly familiar, like someone had taken that awful memory and stretched it to fit an adolescent body. But that was ridiculous- there was no way this was the same troll. It just wasn't possible…But nonetheless, the old fear from that night came rushing back.

Forms were passed out, instructions given… but it was only when a slim finger prodded his side that he was brought back to reality. Beside him, Rose was tapping her fingers disapprovingly on her desk, looking at John expectantly. For a moment, he was confused, but then her eyes darted to the troll in front of him, and he knew EXACTLY what she meant. He tried to protest, to reason with her, but she silenced him with an insistent glare.

Turning back forward, he spent the next several minutes staring at the back of the trolls shirt, feeling Rose's gaze burn into his side. His heart was pounding, he was terrified… there was absolutely no way he could talk to a troll… but after several more agonizing seconds of uncertainty, he managed a tiny "um…", barely above a whisper. The troll's head snapped around like the boy had played a symphony. "What." he demanded, eyes narrowing dangerously.

The situation was critical. John's heart was beating so hard it was about to burst, and now he HAD to say something. Swallowing, his mouth suddenly dry, he pushed out a raspy "Hi," accompanied by feeble smile. The troll was not impressed. "Go fuck yourself" was his reply as he turned back forward, mumbling obscenities.

John didn't look up from his desk for the rest of class. An eternity later, the bell rang, and his punishment, it seemed, was over for the time being. Karkat had, of course, stormed out of the room the minute class ended, followed closely by one of the officers, with Sollux following closely behind, muttering something about "thtupid overreacting kk." Breathing a sigh of relief, John gathered his things up, and turned to Rose to find an empty desk. Looking forward, he found her doing the unthinkable… socializing. And she was doing it with a troll.

He took a step forward, listening intently to the quiet exchange. "It is very nice to meet you, Miss Lalonde. My name is Kanaya."

"The pleasure is mine. I'd chat a bit more, but it appears my friend has taken up eavesdropping." John blushed brightly, looking away even as his friend beckoned him over. "I shall speak with you later, Kanaya." she said, smiling faintly at the elegant troll, and received a pleasant smile in response. "I look forward to it." she said, turning to leave. John blushed faintly, noting how properly and elegantly she moved, possessed of an almost ethereal grace.

Rose smiled, a strange gleam in her eye, but in an instant, it was gone, and her familiar, aloof gaze turned back to John. "One down, two to go."


	6. Chapter 5

Ch. 5 (Rose)

Rose Lalonde was not hopeful. No, not yet. She sat quietly, fingers steepled, eyes focused on her Advanced English teacher, ears primed to absorb every word and faintly stuttered clause. It had been an hour, at least, since she'd bid farewell to John and… Kanaya, but it felt like much, much longer. Even now, she felt her carefully crafted attentiveness slipping, barely afloat over the massive sea of boredom that characterized her daily academic routine. She did not consider herself more intelligent than her peers. No, she was simply more adept at thought. Years of mental exercise had sharpened her mind, granting her keen insight and deeper capacity for understanding.

While her classmates struggled to grasp the basic plot of Hamlet, she had already delved deep into the theme. It was a charming play, really, and she was glad Mr. Deuss had assigned it for summer reading. In a way, she identified with the prince. All thought, but no action. Carefully crafted schemes and strategies that had, with one dramatic change, all fallen, rotting, at his feet, destroying everything he had cared about, or pretended to care about. The Witch allowed herself a faint smile. She hated introspection, but she simply couldn't help it. Her mind was always hungry for understanding, and her emotions were the deepest mystery she could fathom.

As the basic lecture stretched on, she allowed herself a small reprieve, and retrieved from her black Squiddle™ bag her knitting needles and a few bolts of yarn. Silently, she began to weave purple and black into a tight, alternating pattern. This would the 18th scarf she had made, and each one was exactly alike. Her mind immediately jumped to the reason, but she did not smile at the memory. It, like all of her "hobbies," stemmed from her mother, and the volatile relationship that had characterized her entire life.

Knit, purl, knit purl… It was always the same. She would never be good enough for her mother. Their entire homelife was just a game, a battle of wits with no audience and no chance for victory. Truth be told, she never altered her pattern because it was the only one she had learned. It was just a weapon, a counterattack to the handmade evening gown that existed for no other purpose than to show off the inadequacy of her breast. The scarf was to camouflage her mother's too-long neck, to cover her own flaws by exposing the imperfections in her opponent… A brilliant strategy, but she'd never gotten a chance to release her poisoned arrow. Damn, a missed stitch, but easily mended. Her silver needles glinted as she repaired her mistake, then immediately made another. She was trapped. The game had been postponed, and she was stuck in a loop, making scarf after scarf in the colors her mother had picked out for her. Black and purple, always the same.

With a faint sigh, she laid the half-finished scarf on her desk, losing herself in the simple pattern. She allowed her mind to drift, thinking instead of the trolls, of Kanaya, specifically. How polite and elegant she was, the strange alien beauty she possessed… and the fact that she represented, above all, a second chance. A new friend, a fellow pariah, without bias. With her, maybe she could be more than just a Witch. Maybe she could be Rose. Just Rose. A faint smile crept across her face as she pictured it, her eyes closing softly as she imagined tendrils of jade, like crystallized ivy, piercing the fabric of her scarf, distorting it with explosions of color she never thought possible.

As the bell rang, she stuffed her supplies into her bag, dispelling the wonderful images. Fantasies would have to wait, she needed to meet John, see how he was holding up. He would need guidance and support as he tackled his fears, and that was something only she could provide. As she left the drab room, a seed of excitement was planted deep in her heart.

No, she was not yet hopeful… But she was getting there.


	7. Chapter 6

_Author's Note_: Zach here. I'd like to apologize for my… well, my ridiculously long hiatus. College life has been pretty stressful, and I simply haven't found much time or inspiration to write this semester. However, as Summer is within reach, I'd like to continue writing. This story is something I've been wanting to get out for a while now, and so I don't plan on giving up until I've finished it. My apologies for the wait, and my thanks for your patience.

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><p><span>Chapter 6 (Rose)<span>

Several minutes after the bell rang, Rose stepped quietly into the hallway, making toward the lunchroom. A far cry from the earlier chaos, the halls were relatively quiet, and what talk she heard was focused solely on the novelty of the Alternians, and the supposed dangers they represented. In spite of herself, she couldn't help feeling a bit of relief as she passed, ghostlike, through the halls. For once, no eyes followed her, no conversations dropped to a whisper… She was, for the first time, completely unremarkable, and that suited her just fine.

In the cafeteria, she quietly made her way toward her usual table. As she had anticipated, John had yet to arrive, but she would not be dining alone. As she approached, the sole occupant of the table jumped up to greet her, throwing her arms around the Witch in a bone crushing embrace. "Rose! It's so good to see you!" she cried, giggling happily as Rose patted her demurely on the back. "My thanks, Jade. I don't think my ribs had quite set since I'd seen you last. You look well." she said, looking over the girl. She was tall, with a mane of long, black hair that was presently in wild disarray. A pencil was tucked haphazardly behind her ear, and her glasses were faintly askew. Doubtless, she had been sleeping in class again.

Jade giggled, her brilliant green eyes sparkling in the fluorescent light as she lead Rose back to the table and sat opposite her, practically shaking with excitement. Folding her hands in front of her, Rose nodded lightly, permitting Jade to begin.

"It's so exciting isn't it? The trolls are finally here! I mean, this is my first time meeting them and all!"

"Indeed. Now if only we could get John to share your sentiments."

Jade cocked her head in confusion, a habit doubtless gleaned from her devilbeast of a dog, Bec.

"I'm afraid John is suffering from Alterniaphobia, if you'll forgive the neologism."

The dark haired girl sighed, crossing her arms. "Really? I guess it's because of his dad? I mean, he seems kinda… overbearing, if you ask me." She said, closing her eyes in thought. "…Oh, well. Let's not worry about it too much. Like Grandpa always said, if there's a will, there's a way, right?"

Rose smiled, nodding faintly. Jade's grandfather had passed away earlier that year, and the loss had been felt heavily by the entire community. He had been a wealthy man, a philanthropist, and, following the death of her parents, he had raised Jade alone in his manor on the mountain overlooking the town. It was he that founded the school they attended, and named it Halley High after his young granddaughter's favorite pet. Rose had attended the funeral. It was a quiet affair, attended only by close friends of the family. In her heart, Rose felt a glow of admiration for the girl. She did not cry, not even once, even as she watched her last bond of blood descend into eternal Earth.

In the months that followed, she had, as per his will, distributed the greater portion of his wealth to the school. She was head of the debate team, and the founder of the Science club, and was planning to run for Class President in the coming weeks. All her life, her grandfather had pushed her to succeed, to be the best she could be… and she had carried on that stride, all while maintaining her smile. In Rose's eyes, she was one of the bravest people she'd ever met.

Now, with a silly, bucktoothed grin plastered across her face, Rose couldn't help but be infected by her enthusiasm. Jade was a natural leader, and she soon found herself recounting the events of the entire morning, and then the question of the Alternians in general. Rose had scarcely begun her psychoanalysis of the foul mouthed Karkat when John arrived, settling in apologetically beside Jade. "Sorry I'm late, guys… there was a fight in the hallway. Somebody pushed over this troll in a wheelchair, and then this other troll with weird makeup beat the crap out of him, and then all these officers were everywhere… it was crazy." the boy explained, shuddering. "It was really scary, actually."

Rose said nothing, extracting a small, plastic wrapped sandwich from her bag. She felt words, ten thousand cries of indignation building in the throat, but she fought them back, deciding to save them for a more appropriate time. Jade, after pulverizing her friend's ribs with affection, reached into her heavy canvas backpack, and took out a small, rolled up poster.

"So, guys… I don't know if you knew this, but grandpa put a lot of money into lobbying for pro-Troll legislation. So… I thought it'd go ahead and introduce this idea for a new club to student council." she said, unrolling the paper. On it was a crudely drawn picture, in crayon, of a Troll and a Human, smiling and holding hands below a rainbow backdrop. Above the pictogram, in Jade's trademark curled script, was written 'Join the Human/Alternian Coalition today! :)'

Smiling broadly, Jade slid the paper over to Rose. "So… what do you think? I know it'll be a tough sell, but I really think we can make a difference in making the trolls feel welcome here!" she exclaimed, looking at her companions expectantly. Rose nodded, deciding against pointing out the optimistic bias held by her friend. "I think it's a wonderful idea." she said, looking pointedly at John. The boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, fidgeting nervously. "Uh… I mean, I think it's a good idea, but… um…" he trailed off, looking down. Jade frowned slightly, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Just… give it a chance, okay? I really think it'd be good for you to hear another side." she said, gaining a slight nod of approval from Rose.

Sitting back, Rose felt a faint smirk pull at her lips. John was unsure, and to her, that was the best sign she could hope for. The seed of doubt she'd known he'd always borne within him was beginning to take root. With care, perhaps he could be persuaded to open his mind and heart to this new facet of their lives. Perhaps, out of the ugly mire of bigotry in their town, something beautiful and new could arise. While the rest of her day passed by quickly, a single note held sustained and heavy in Rose's heart. It was the prelude to a new beginning, and she would help to conduct it. The witch smiled to herself. It wasn't a bad way to start a year.


End file.
